Uncharted Waters
by solitaryloner
Summary: Mikuo Hatsune is a thief, trying to flee from his past. By working on a merchant ship, he hopes to forget everything - but then his ship is captured by pirates. Their captain, Miku Hatsune, is a dreaded pirate queen...and is also the most beautiful girl Mikuo has ever seen. But she has dark secrets of her own, and Mikuo won't rest until he finds out what they are. MikuoXMikuXLen.
1. Chapter 1

_**Solitaryloner: **__Well, yes, this is a new story. And yes, I know that I should really stop creating new stories, because it just adds up and I can't finish anything. As always._

_But this is different. This is one of those stories where I keep thinking about the idea behind it, over and over again, and I know that if I don't try starting on this story, I won't be able to live out the rest of my shameless life._

_Anyway, this is a MikuoMiku story. LeekXLeek. There's some LenKu as well, but not in the first few chapters, I guess. Not for quite a while, actually. I won't update quickly - I refuse to lie to anyone, including myself - because I know that I won't have the time. School has only entered its first week, and I'm dying from all the fun. You read it right, from all the fun._

_Because I made it into the most enthusiastic, most hyper school in my country, where we all work hard and play hard! So far all I've had is orientation, but the school curriculum itself should be fun - if not exhausting - and I can't see myself having time to write and update._

_So this applies to all my other stories as well, not just this. I'm sure I warned most people that my updates will slow once school starts. Anyway, this story is rated M for a reason. It gets incredibly suggestive, even more so than most of my stories, so read at your own risk._

_And, to anyone who celebrates Chinese New Year...it's New Year's Eve tonight! Tomorrow is the day of visitation! Have fun, rest well and have a great time both tonight and tomorrow! We all have a tiring two days ahead, yeah?_

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Mikuo Hatsune stood at the prow of the ship, his eyes staring into nothing but blank space.

His life was so damn monotonous here, it was killing him. All he ever did on this ship was clean the decks. After that, he would play cards and dice with the other crew members until he was sick of winning - for the fiftieth time in a row. Then he would sleep, and the whole cycle would repeat itself the next day. Life on-board a merchant ship was so boring, Mikuo almost wished he was still on land. Being a thief.

He gritted his teeth at the thought, his fingers clenching and unclenching over the object he held in his hand - a broken heart. A tiny, broken half of a heart, left to him by his sailor father. It was the only thing he had to remind himself of the man's existence. His father was never, ever around, always off in the seas somewhere. His mother had passed this necklace to him, right before she died. Mikuo had worn it ever since.

He wondered why it was only half a heart. Was there another half somewhere? Maybe the other half would be with his father, wherever he was right now. Maybe his father would have the answers to questions Mikuo never thought of. Mikuo had no more kin, other than his father - which was why he was here right now. He had left his home, taking off to the high seas.

Perhaps he would manage to find his father. Or maybe he wouldn't. Honestly, finding his father would be a boon, but it wasn't the main reason why Mikuo left. He was tired of being known as a petty thief. He wanted to leave - leave his past behind, leave all the memories of his childhood suffering behind - and go to a new land. To a place where no one would know who he was.

Mikuo Hatsune. Thief. He stole to make a living. His family was poor - there was only him and his sickly mother, who could ill afford to work and make money. She used to work as a lady of the night, until she caught that dread affliction - the sickness that all whores would get, one day or another. It was the damned sickness which sent her to her grave, in the end. But until then, Mikuo stole to support the both of them.

And he was good at it. Thievery. He didn't want to do it. Despite being a whore, his mother had a strong sense of right and wrong - she greatly disapproved of what he did. _We might be poor, but that does not mean we throw away our moral values just so that we can suffer less. _Yet, what choice did he have? They needed the money - his mother needed money for all her medicines. He didn't know any other job.

He was from a poor family. He could read and write, because a priest had taken pity on him. Mikuo went to church because his mother did - he always wondered how she could withstand the sneers and snide comments she received, when they went to church. _She has no place here, that filthy whore. Tainting our church with her sins and dirt. _She never listened to them. She held her head up high, always.

The priest of the church saw him, hiding behind his mother's skirts. He knew of Mikuo's family situation, and decided to take him under his wing. Thrice a week, Mikuo would go to the church - with his mother's consent, of course - and the priest would teach him how to write, read and speak. To speak properly, not like one of the young ragamuffins living on the streets.

Mikuo would always be grateful to the priest for that. He didn't believe in God, not really - if God existed, he saw no sign of such a thing. There was no promise of deliverance for him. In fact, there was nothing much for him to live for. He was not a devout man. But he would always be thankful to the priest for teaching him skills...skills that made him useful to the merchants who were about to sail off on a great journey.

It was the first time he had been on a ship. He didn't feel seasick or anything like that, even if the weather was drastically stormy - he just felt bored, even while his crew mates were being sick around him. He wondered if it was because his father was a sailor. That was the only thing he knew about the man - his mother never said anything more about him, and he never asked either. Mikuo looked at his necklace again.

It was a feminine thing to wear, he admitted it. But this was a gift from his father - and much more importantly, it was his last present from his mother. The only person in the world who cared about whether he lived or died. She was gone now, and he had no more tethers - he drifted where he pleased. She had passed this to him with her dying breath, and he took it.

So he would wear it, no matter how feminine it was to him. A broken half of a heart...would he ever find the other half? Was it even significant, this heart? Did it mean something, or was it just a necklace? Why did his mother wait so many years - twenty-three, in fact - just to give this simple thing to him? She had passed on before he had a chance to ask her that. Perhaps his father would have the answers he sought.

He let the necklace slip back under his shirt. He lost track of how many days he had spent on this ship. A month already? More, even. On the day his mother died, leaving him behind, he packed what meagre belongings he had and departed from his home. Making his way to the harbour, he had asked ship owners if they had any places on-board their ships, and had been repeatedly denied - until he came across this.

A merchant, intending to sail to an exotic place Mikuo had never even heard of. It seemed like a welcome change from the drab, misty town that was his home. He was offered a position as a cabin boy, and he took it. Now, he wondered just how long would it take to arrive at their destination. Mikuo yawned, stretching leisurely - he was tired of doing nothing but nothing.

They did stop at land sometimes, whenever they saw it. Mostly to refill their food and fresh water supplies. Whenever they made port, all the men on-board the ship would make their way to the nearest brothels - except for him, of course. The very thought of it made him ill. His mother had died because of this...he wasn't interested in this kind of thing. Mikuo didn't want to just sleep with any random woman.

Admittedly, he was no virgin. But he didn't find just any woman when the urge struck him. He didn't work like that. For him...it was a little old-fashioned of him, he supposed, but he would only sleep with someone he was in an actual relationship with. Not with some random stranger off the streets. His mother had bred into him all the moral values he had now, and he wouldn't dishonour her memory by doing anything...shameful. So he stayed away.

He glanced out at the sea again, his fingers resting lightly on the edge of the ship. It was night-time now, actually, and he couldn't get to sleep. The moon shone out in the skies - he could see its reflection on the still waters. The weather was fine tonight. A couple of days ago, it had been stormy, and Mikuo couldn't get out onto the main deck without getting completely drenched. At least he had dried off now.

Was he the only one still awake or sober? He glanced around - there still wasn't anyone on the deck. That wasn't surprising. The rest were busy getting drunk, below decks. He wouldn't be surprised if they ran out of alcohol within two days. Not that he cared. Mikuo could hold his drink well - better than most - but he wasn't fond of rum or gin. He only drank it when he was thirsty, and there was no more water.

His eyes drifted to the reflection of the moon, shimmering in the distance. He thought he saw something there, a faint little black spot in the distance, but he couldn't be sure. It seemed to flicker in and out of his sight, and he felt that perhaps he was just imagining things. Maybe his tiredness made him see something that wasn't there. The black spot...no, it was there.

His eyes narrowed, his hand drifting down to his hips. He had a small dagger strapped to his waist, as well as three flintlock pistols. But all that wouldn't be much help, if the spot was what he suspected it to be. Instantly, Mikuo turned away from the prow, dashing off to the captain's room. His footsteps resounded loudly as he made his way across the wooden floor.

''Captain!'' he rapped on the door, impatient. There was a pause - it seemed like an entire eternity to him - before the door creaked open, and there stood his captain. He looked rather impatient, but there was expectancy written on his face. Mikuo didn't bother to waste any time exchanging pleasantries, instead stating what he had seen out in the waters, and what it might possibly be. The captain instantly paled.

''No...'' the man breathed. ''Surely not?'' he and Mikuo slipped up to the deck, him holding a bronze telescope in his hand. Mikuo led him out to the spot he had been standing in earlier, and the captain snapped the telescope outwards, pointing it in the direction of the black speck. Mikuo noticed, with trepidation, that the blot had gotten significantly bigger. Was it closer?

Suddenly, the captain swore, letting the bronze telescope collapse back inwards. ''It's her,'' he said bleakly. ''The galleon...every merchant and naval officer recognises it. No one dares to cross her - she's like Davy Jones himself. She's flying the colours, she is,'' the captain muttered. ''All hands on deck!'' he suddenly shouted, out into the silent night. Mikuo flinched at that.

He was right, then? Mikuo glanced out at the open waters. Then they were in trouble. It was impossible to defeat a galleon of such size, especially not when theirs was a ship meant more for trade than war. Their only hope was to try and outrun the galleon - but how could they do such a thing when the ship was already so near? The very fact that they could see it...

There was no wind, and that made it worse. After the captain's initial shout, there was a brief moment of silence, before the rest of the crew spilled out onto the main deck, most of them half-drunk and barely sober. Mikuo just sighed and shook his head. _We're doomed. _He should have just stayed at home, and left the matter of his necklace alone. There was never any point in starting all over, was there?

He would probably die. He knew about _her. _Her bloody reputation had drifted far and wide - the bounty on her head had attracted many to try and hunt her down. Few ever survived to tell the tale, and none of these survivors ever wanted to sail out into open sea again. When she was flying the colours, she meant what she said - _spare no prisoners. _She was cruel, she was sadistic, she was the scourge of the seas.

Miku Hatsune, the pirate queen. And her galleon - it was very distinctive, for it was supposedly entirely black, with the sculpture of a crying maiden bound to the prow. The figurehead was the most distinctive part of the whole galleon - it was said that if one had a chance to take a close look at it, they would see that the young maiden was crying tears of blood. Still, the fact that the ship itself was black was...strange.

''Get ready to sail,'' the captain was now saying to his drunken men. ''Hatsune is here - no, not this Hatsune,'' he said impatiently, as all eyes immediately turned to Mikuo, confused. ''The other Hatsune. Miku Hatsune is bearing down upon us, and if you would like to save your sorry hide, get down below decks and row!'' the captain barked. The men just stood silent.

Suddenly, it dawned upon them that they were being chased by a bloodthirsty menace with a reputation twisted enough to put Satan himself to shame, and they began panicking, just as how Mikuo knew they would. Mikuo sighed - there was no way they could get away in time, he was certain. They had wasted so much time here that - his eyes widened. The galleon was close now. So close, he could make it out.

It was some distance away, but still too close for his comfort. Damn. It was imposing, this ship of pure black - or perhaps he thought it was black just because it was night-time? He couldn't be sure. The captain was shouting at his men, Mikuo wasn't sure what was being said - but whatever it was, it was effective. All the men immediately scurried off, and a few moments later, Mikuo felt the ship picking up speed. If only there was some wind around...

Despite that, the galleon appeared to be gaining on them. The captain saw that, and he cursed again. ''We won't be able to escape her,'' the man said candidly. ''I suppose we could wait for her to board our ship, and try to drive them back - but it won't work, I'm certain,'' he said quietly. ''Their crew would outnumber ours.''

''We could just surrender. If we don't fight, she might just let a few of us live,'' Mikuo said idly, already resigned to his fate. He couldn't deny that a little spark of heady excitement ran through him, though, at the thought of the impending conflict - he had always liked the thrill of fighting. Of coming out as victorious. The sinful rush of headiness and power that came with being a victor...it was irresistible.

He knew he could not win this, but it had been so long since he last encountered conflict of any sort, he was just itching to get into a fight. He liked friction, he admitted it. _There's a dark side to you I cannot force out, my son, _he recalled the priest who taught him before saying. _A very dark side which rears his head in the most difficult of situations. You must be careful._

His dark side. His need to conquer. Dominate. He was aggressive through and through - he tried to suppress that side of him, tried not to give in to the urge to win so much, but there were times where he just...let go. And he never felt more alive than when he was winning a fight. The harder the battle, the better it was.

It didn't matter what kind of fight it was. Be it mental, physical, spiritual...so long as he won. In this case, however, he knew it was hopeless. Their crew was relatively small, compared to the typical merchant crew, and he knew that they would not win a fight against a bunch of bloodthirsty pirates. Surrendering was their best option. Whatever the pirate queen wanted from them...she was highly unpredictable.

No one ever knew what the pirate queen was searching for. She was known for attacking anyone and anything, even the feared man-o'-war ships, and she never lost. When she took a new ship, most of the time, she didn't bother to seize the cargo - she did it occasionally, but those times were rare. In fact, unlike most pirates, Miku Hatsune was more known for attacking warships, rather than merchants.

Why? That wasn't typical pirate behaviour, he knew that. She spared no one who dared to fight her - _dead men tell no tales, _that seemed to be her favourite phrase. If the crew of the ship just surrendered, there _might _be a chance that she didn't kill them. Of course, it was only the merchants who tried doing that. The naval armies didn't ever surrender to the dreaded pirate queen. As a result, none would survive.

''True,'' the captain finally breathed out, after a moment's worth of consideration. His eyes were cold and flinty. ''But I despise pirates. If she sets any terms that I cannot agree to, I'd rather fall upon my own sword,'' he watched the galleon coming closer. Mikuo watched as well, mulling upon the captain's words. It did make sense. He could respect him for that.

He was Mikuo Hatsune, aged twenty-three. A professional thief, though this job was not one he preferred. Working his way on-board a ship to a new land. And he was now about to be killed by a homicidal pirate queen. Twenty-three was a little young to be dying, and he wondered what death would be like. When he had so many questions still unanswered...

The galleon was frustratingly fast. Hatsune's vessel certainly didn't disappoint - it was said to be the fastest ship in the seas. It seemed like scarcely moments later when blades sank into the side of their ship, ropes attached to their hilts, and the pirates were making their way across to the merchant ship. Mikuo just stood his ground, next to the captain, watching as the figures slid gracefully onto the main deck.

They were soundless and nimble - like an army, in fact. Just like a disciplined army. One of them - the very first man on the deck, a man with silvery white hair and dual-coloured eyes, took a step towards Mikuo. ''Get your entire crew out from below decks,'' he said quietly, directing his words at the captain, but staring at Mikuo. The man's words were soft, but they carried a hint of threat, and the captain slowly nodded.

But, before the captain could say anything, the crew had poured out, up onto the main deck. Fear and panic were written all over their faces, and Mikuo resisted the urge to roll his eyes - they truly were no more than a scurvy bunch of pathetic cowards. The silver haired man looked faintly amused by this. ''That was easier than I thought it would be,'' he remarked, his voice still as dangerously soft as it was earlier.

''What do you want?'' the captain challenged the man. Mikuo had to admire the captain for his braveness, even in the face of all these pirates. The silver haired man arched an eyebrow, then smiled, flicking his hair out of his eyes. But his smile was cold, and Mikuo got the feeling that this was a man who would slit your throat the very moment you became useless to him.

''We need new crew members,'' he said, his expression placid. ''We lost some of our crew the other day - deserters decided to abandon ship at Port Royale. Our captain has vowed to skin them alive if she ever sees them again,'' his eyes lingered curiously upon Mikuo, ''but until then, we need people to take their place. We would be happy if you would consider our little...offer,'' the man finished, still smiling.

''And what if we disagree with that?'' the captain challenged. The silver haired man simply tilted his head, then shrugged, the smile disappearing from his face. He made a quick, beckoning motion with his hand, and one of the silent pirates behind him stepped forward - with a quick slash of his blade, the pirate cut open the captain's arm, causing red blood to pour forth.

The captain hissed, clutching his wounded arm to himself, but stared disdainfully at the silver haired man. ''That's all you got?'' he taunted. The stranger just smiled, looking completely unruffled, then he shook his head. Reaching out, he dragged the struggling captain over to the side of the ship, then pointed down into the waters. Mikuo looked down, over the side.

He saw small, black triangles...''Our friends there are hungry. They haven't feasted in days, you know,'' the man's voice was a silky purr. ''Your blood? It's just a little appetiser for them. Trust me,'' the man's silky voice turned low and dangerous, ''your miserable carcass alone won't be able to satisfy them.'' With that, the silver haired man hoisted the captain up, tossing him over the side of the ship. He screamed all the way as he went down, splashing into the sea.

And then he was gone, with nothing but a pale hand left, extending out from the waters. The triangles disappeared, diving down into the deeps, and then the hand was gone as well. There was no trace of the captain left behind. Mikuo swallowed, looking away from the sea - would he want that sort of fate? ''We don't have that many open spots, you know,'' the man said affably, like he hadn't just thrown a man to his death. ''Only ten. And there are...oh. So many.''

There was a mad scramble as most of the crew rushed over to the silver haired man, all of them not wanting to be thrown overboard. Mikuo didn't bother to move, just standing at where he was - he was already resigned to his fate, and he didn't care about whether he lived or died. There was no one left for him. No one to care at all. Only questions awaited him...

''How eager. I might consider you if you get down on your knees and beg,'' the man sang liltingly, pushing his way out through the crowd. Ten lucky - or perhaps not - crew members followed him, relief evident on their faces as they escaped death by the skin of their teeth. The remaining men - twenty of them - paused, before all of them slowly knelt before him.

All except for him. At once, the silver haired man zoomed in on him, and the smile on his face turned into something more like a grimace. ''You,'' he hissed, those dual-coloured eyes glaring balefully into his own. ''You think that you can defy us just because you look like _her? _You think wrong, and I will not hesitate to throw you to the sharks either. _Now kneel._''

Mikuo didn't look away from the man. ''I will not,'' he said clearly, his green eyes narrowing. ''Especially not to scum like you. Unlike the rest of the pathetic cowards upon this ship,'' he shot the kneeling men a scathing look, ''I happen to have some dignity. Kill me if you wish to,'' he shrugged. ''I see no point in staying alive.''

The man's dual-coloured eyes narrowed as well. ''Then I shall grant you your wish,'' he said, deceptively sweetly. He stepped forward, his blade raised, and Mikuo closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable stinging pain - but before the blade sliced down, he heard a new voice ring out. A melodious voice, the quiet voice of a girl. Instantly, Mikuo's eyes flew open.

''Stop,'' the girl said, stepping forward to stand directly behind the silver haired man. Mikuo couldn't see who she was - she was blocked by the man. ''Piko, he interests me. I would like to speak to him,'' slender fingers were placed on his shoulder. Mikuo saw that, for a brief second, this Piko's eyes closed - but before he could stare at him for too long, Piko's eyes opened again, and he was back to glaring at Mikuo.

The girl stepped forward, the darkness of the night shielding her face from him. ''Kneel,'' she said softly - but this time, he couldn't defy her. He just knew, somehow, that if he said no, she would give him a fate worse than death, even. He simply knew, from the way she spoke. If even this Piko listened to her..._she must be the pirate queen, then. Miku Hatsune. Is it her?_

He got down onto his knees, but the baleful glare didn't leave his face. He didn't have any choice but to kneel, anyway - when the girl told him to do so, two of the pirates had stepped forward and forced him to his knees. He felt cool, soft fingers tilting his head upwards, and then he was looking into her face, right at her. His eyes widened in shock, as he saw who it was. Who she was. How she looked like.

She looked..._this girl looks like me. _Green eyes. Teal hair. Similar features. She was a beautiful girl - dressed in a long coat, a white shirt, and a pair of dark coloured trousers. There was a gleaming cutlass by her side. ''What is your name, sailor?'' she asked, her voice still quiet. Mikuo couldn't look away from her. She looked so much like him, yet she wasn't like him, and he...she was disarmingly beautiful. This girl.

''Mikuo Hatsune,'' he finally spat out, jerking away from her touch. Something flickered through her green eyes, and she rose back up, turning away from him. He watched her - everyone was watching her, wondering what she would say. The silver haired man crossed over to her, muttering something agitatedly - but she held a hand up, telling him to quieten. Piko did so, though it was quite reluctantly.

''All of you will join me, then,'' she finally said, her voice ringing with authority. ''And if any one of you don't wish to join my crew, then tell me now. For dead men tell no tales,'' she whipped around, pinning him with a stare. ''You'd do well to pay attention to what I say, Mikuo Hatsune,'' she whispered, her green eyes unblinking. He met her gaze, and he..._Win, _something in him whispered. He blinked, feeling startled.

''Drag him on-board our ship, if you have to,'' she told the two pirates forcing him down. The two of them nodded, and Mikuo gritted his teeth - the notorious Miku Hatsune. This was her, there was no doubt about it. But..._I never knew that she was so pretty. Or that we had so much in common. I thought the Hatsune part was just a coincidence, but...we look like..._

''I'd rather die,'' he hissed, trying to struggle away from the men. At this, the girl paused, before she whipped around to face him, an icy cold smile on her face. Her eyes were frigid, and he almost shivered at the sight - he just got a vague sense of why, truly, she was so feared. The cruelty with which she looked at him now...he knew it was just a tiny facet of how harsh and unforgiving the pirate queen could be.

''I'm not giving you a choice,'' she said simply. ''I want you in my crew. You are now mine, and you cannot defy any of my orders. You will not die. I simply won't allow such a thing, thief,'' he froze at that. She smirked. ''I know you are not a sailor. You are a thief. You have the look of one. Don't pretend to be honourable and such when, in truth, you are no different from a pirate. How do thieves and pirates differ?''

_Win. _His thoughts whispered again. And he knew that he could not die now. Not because she thought she had a hold over him - frankly, he didn't give a damn about what she said - but because he had started a game with himself. A game he had to win, no matter what the stakes were. He always had to win, to feel the heady rush that came with being a victor. He hated her, but he would stay alive for himself.

So he would stay alive until he won his game, whatever game it was he had decided to play. His eyes never left her as she walked away from him, graceful and lithe as a nymph. His lip curled in disdain. He hated her. He hated that this woman - this _girl _- dared to turn him into her slave. Part of her crew. What he said was true - he would rather die than be forced to obey someone he did not want to follow. Once the game was done, he would kill himself...

Even though he hated her, he couldn't seem to stop watching her. _I know that I'm playing a game now. But w__hat am I supposed to win?_

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_**Solitaryloner: **__Yeah, it's a little rushed, but I wanted the first chapter to seem confusing. And, in my experience, rushed tends to equal confusing. Currently, Mikuo has been caught by the dreaded pirate queen. Mikuo is a sore loser at games, and he enjoys conflicts of any kind._

_Now, he's just wondering what kind of game (conflict, in other words) he has to win, which involves Miku. And he's wondering what's the objective, what he has to do, what is a 'win' in this case...in other words, he's confused. I know this chapter passed by really quickly, but I wanted to get the 'captured by pirates' thing over and done with. The real story starts from the next chapter onwards, so stay tuned!_

_Also, please don't forget to leave a review! Reviews make me more excited about writing and updating. Sigh. I remember this used to be quite a popular pairing, but fewer people seem to support it nowadays...so drop a review, please!_


	2. Chapter 2

''The whole lot of you, get down and row. I intend to make it back to Port Royale within three days. There aren't any problems with that, are there?'' the pirate queen turned.

There was no reaction to her words - other than a very long, pronounced sigh from a certain teal haired man. At once, she whipped around to stare at him - Mikuo Hatsune was standing next to her Quartermaster, a sullen look on his face. He met her gaze. Those green eyes, so like her own, were filled with smouldering anger.

She thought she could understand why he felt this way. A prideful man, forced into doing what he didn't wish to do. She doubted she would be happy either, if she were in his shoes. But that made no difference to her, in the end. Whether or not he was unhappy. Because she was the captain, and no one ever disobeyed the captain. He would not be an exception to this rule.

No matter how intriguing she found him. Were they related, somehow? She could have sworn that looking at him was like looking at her own reflection in the mirror. She had to know who he was, and why they resembled each other so. Their likeness to each other was uncanny, and she was certain that he thought so too - she saw the shock in his eyes when he first looked at her. And his name was like hers, as well...

''Why, are you unhappy with this arrangement, Mikuo?'' she asked, her voice quiet. She rarely raised her voice - she didn't have to. Piko, her Quartermaster, was the one who settled all the discipline matters for her. Her reputation alone was more than enough to quell even the most courageous man, and she knew it. Besides, she learnt a long time ago that usually, soft and carefully controlled was far more effective than loud anger, when it came to intimidation.

''As if I would dare to disagree with the good captain,'' came the scathing reply. On his left, Piko tensed, and she knew that the silver haired man was inches away from snapping. Piko was extremely defensive of her - she appreciated that, it was good to know she had someone so loyal to her - and he hated it whenever another person dared to show her any disrespect. She met Piko's dual-coloured eyes, shaking her head slightly. He gritted his teeth, but stood down.

''I'm glad we have no disagreements, then,'' a small smile curved her lips, and she looked away from him once more. ''All of you,'' she now addressed her new crew members, ''will make sure that we arrive at our destination in the next three days. Or I will show you exactly why I'm called the scourge of the seas,'' her voice had softened even more, making her words calm but dangerous. The men scurried away.

''Oh, except for you, Mikuo,'' she added. Not that it was necessary to say so. The teal haired man hadn't moved a single centimetre. The pirate queen knew that he looked up, at the sound of his name - the burning glare he shot her was more than sufficient to reveal what he thought of her. ''Come to my cabin. We need to have a little talk,'' she swept away from the rest, not bothering to look back to see if he followed.

She knew he would follow. Sure enough, she heard light footsteps, some distance behind her - unfamiliar footsteps, for none of her crew walked the way he did. Slowly, lightly, carefully, as though he was trying his best to remain hidden and inconspicuous. The mark of a thief, she knew. She knew what thieves were like, and Mikuo Hatsune was one. He was a good thief at that, she was sure. She just...knew.

The way his green eyes shifted from side to side, lingering on any visible valuables. Gold earrings. Necklaces. Rings. Anything. The way he clenched and unclenched his slender fingers, trying to restrain himself from reaching out and snatching what did not belong to him. The slow, careful way he moved. This was a man used to skulking in shadows and hiding in the dark. She had no doubt he was a skilled gambler, too.

If there was one thing she was good at, it was reading people. Knowing what kind of person they were. Their behaviour, their attitudes, it all reflected upon them. Their habits, what their bodies did, without them noticing...it all spoke much for what someone was like. She knew he was stubborn and proud. Angry, too. There was a darkness in his eyes which she knew was not present in her own. It...unnerved her, actually.

There was a dark side to this one. He was not like the rest of the snivelling curs on-board his merchant ship. She just wondered what his dark side would manifest as. The darkness...what it really was. Everyone had a dark side to them, a darker half they struggled to hide from the rest of society. And she wanted to know what his black secret was, what he was trying to hide.

Her pirates parted for her as she made her way across the deck. They were her loyal followers, her men and women, and they did anything she wanted them to without question. Some joined her because they wanted to. Others had been coerced and forced into joining, just like what had happened tonight. Her galleon had a crew that numbered around three hundred in total, including the men she had gained tonight.

She detested traitors and disloyalty. If any one of her pirates dared to run away from her, she would make sure they suffered a fate worse than death itself. Provided she managed to find them - which she almost always did. There weren't many safe pirate ports in the world, and she knew where all of them were. One day, she would find her latest traitors. Until then.

She led the other Hatsune all the way to the captain's quarters, holding the door open for him. He paused before the door, his green eyes sliding across to meet hers - they were filled with wariness, and she didn't fault him for being wary of her. If she were in his place, she knew that she would be suspicious as well.

''No trap,'' she said, returning his gaze. His eyes narrowed, and the two of them just stared at each other for a while. Finally, he nodded, then turned and walked past her into the room. She quietly closed the door behind her, her fingers tapping lightly against the wood of the door - he was standing in the middle of her room, his teal hair unruly and dishevelled. He let out a sigh.

''So what does the good captain want to talk to me about?'' he asked, his voice flat. His back was stiff, and she knew that he was tense. ''I get the feeling that you didn't call me here just so we could have a chat over tea and biscuits,'' he turned slightly, looking around the room. Miku just stood there, watching him. She saw the way his eyes lingered on everything, the way he studied her room intently. Carefully.

It reminded her of a trapped animal, doing its best to figure a way out of its situation. She didn't say a single thing, just waiting, until he finally looked back at her, his gaze flicking away from her every once in a while. Slowly, she smiled. ''I think that it is a waste of your bravery to make you a simple cabin boy,'' she said, her voice honeyed. He laughed dryly.

''Am I supposed to be honoured, captain?'' his voice was bitter. ''It is not bravery you hear - rather, it is the sound of a man with no cause. No purpose in life. I might as well be reckless, for there is no point in living when there is no one waiting for me,'' his fingers inched down to his waist, lingering there. She knew that he was missing his weapons. They had been taken away from him once he was put on her ship.

She would return them in due time, when she finally trusted him not to use them upon her. Until then, she would keep his pistols and his dagger - besides, if he was as resourceful and clever as she thought he might be, he would find a way to get a weapon of his own. Even without her. Anything could be a weapon, in the correct hands. Was he good enough, then?

''Be it bravery or recklessness, I welcome it,'' she said smoothly. ''I am very...curious about you, Mikuo,'' she went straight to the point, her eyes meeting his. He tilted his head, paying close attention to her words. ''We have a very uncanny resemblance to each other, as I am sure you have noticed by now. Not that I think we are related in any way,'' she added, noting the look on his face. ''It's...highly improbable.''

''And why can't we be long-lost relatives, if I may be so bold as to ask?'' he retorted, those green eyes filled with careful consideration. She paused - did she want to tell him? No one knew anything about her family, no one but Piko, her trusted Quartermaster. Mikuo glanced away from her again, moving across to the lit lamp on her desk. He twisted the knob, dimming the bright flame so that the room was darker.

''I took my father's name,'' she finally said. ''My father died when I was a child, or so I was told. I never saw him much, anyway. My father had no siblings. Even if we're both Hatsunes, we're not related,'' her lips tilted up. ''So you may wipe that look of nervousness off your face. I wouldn't want to be related to you either.''

Something flickered through his eyes, but it was gone before she could look closely. Or maybe it had just been a trick of the light. It was too dim for her to really see anything clearly. ''Light the lamp up,'' she said, making her words forceful. She saw him shrug, drifting away from the desk her lamp was on, and she wondered whether she ought to waste energy on getting angry.

In the end, she just crossed over to the desk, intending to make the flame bigger herself - before she could reach the desk, his hand shot out, grabbing her wrist. She tensed, looking up at him - he was taller than her, she noticed, now that he was no longer kneeling - and he smirked down at her. ''I like being in the dark,'' was all he said, slowly letting go of her wrist.

''I don't,'' she answered sharply, ''and this is my ship. So what I say goes,'' yanking her hand away from him, she reached out, twisting the knob on the lamp. The flame flared up, and the room brightened again. Mikuo stood there, next to her, looking faintly amused. It unnerved her. Hadn't he been feeling uneasy, just moments ago? So why the sudden change in attitude?

''It seems that the captain has an irrational fear of the dark,'' he commented, causing her to stiffen. _I just said I wanted the lamp lit up. Nothing else. How did he..._''You're not the only one good at reading people, captain,'' he tilted his head. ''When you're a thief, you get pretty damn good at reading people too. Finding out whether or not they're easy victims, you know? Why, do you fear what lurks in the dark, hm?''

''I do not fear the dark,'' she answered, her voice calm and steady. _But it's a lie. _''You ought to watch your tongue, Hatsune or not. We might share the same last name, but I will not give you preferential treatment, and I won't hesitate to cut out your tongue if you ever offend me,'' she looked evenly at him. He returned her gaze, a look of mockery still present on his face.

''Of course. Whatever the captain says goes,'' he sounded tauntingly polite. ''Though, it is really unexpected, that the scourge of the seas, the dreaded pirate queen Miku Hatsune, is actually scared of the dark. Quite amusing, really. No one has found out about this before then, I gather?'' he ran his fingers through his hair, the mocking look turning into one of boredom.

''Because it isn't true,'' she said sharply. A little too defensively for her own comfort. Mikuo just shrugged and nodded, letting the matter rest. She took a deep breath in, struggling to calm herself down. She was the most notorious pirate to ever sail the seven seas, and she would do her best to look the part. ''As I was saying, I think you deserve more than the post of cabin boy. You're smart, from what I see.''

Surprise flitted across his features, but it was gone so quickly that she could not be sure. ''I thank you for considering me smart, captain,'' he said dryly, ''but believe me, I am far from smart. If I were, I would have hurled myself over the edge of your galleon a long time ago,'' he yawned, his eyes lingering curiously on her. ''I might be interested in what you have to say, though,'' he added, somewhat reluctantly.

''I just wonder whether you're smart enough to know when to hold your tongue,'' came the icy reply. ''Piko needs someone to help him out, since the crew has gotten bigger again. I have no First Mate, nor do I intend to get one. He has not complained, but I know that it is tiring for Piko alone to handle a crew of over three hundred. I would like you to assist him with his duties. A second Quartermaster, if you will.''

''Piko...'' Mikuo echoed. ''He's the one with the silver hair, isn't he?'' he asked. He already knew who he was, but he just wanted to be sure. The man clearly didn't appear to like Mikuo much, and he wasn't very enthusiastic about the idea of working with someone who hated his guts. The captain - he refused to think of her name, of just how damn similar they were - nodded.

''I have not discussed this with him yet,'' she admitted, ''but I am certain he will agree. He is not stupid, no matter what reservations he might have about your presence on-board this ship,'' _ah, so the captain knows about how antagonistic her Quartermaster is. _''He knows when he is overworking himself. He will not reject assistance when he is in need of it.''

''But I might not agree. Did you think about it?'' he noticed her stiffen. She was so easy to read. Like an open book. He saw every movement she made, saw every reaction she had to whatever he did...when he turned down the flame of the lamp earlier, he noticed her flinch. He heard the way her voice changed - becoming softer, more breathy, more...scared. She couldn't hide it.

She tried, he granted her that. She tried to hide that she feared the dark, but how could she do so when her own body betrayed her? He was a thief, and what he told her was true - thieves had to be good at reading the body language of other people. To know whether he would be successful in this venture or not. Perhaps she was right. Pirates and thieves hardly differed.

''You have no choice but to agree,'' was all she finally said. ''You're on my ship,'' she reminded him. As though he hadn't heard that a hundred times before already. ''You think that you want to die, don't you? It's easy to say that when you believe you have nothing, when you're standing here safe and sound, and you can change your mind any time you want. But when you look into the face of Death itself...it's just different.''

Her expression was closed-off, and she looked like she was simply discussing the weather - but he knew, from how she chose her words, from the way those green eyes pierced him, that she spoke from personal experience. He couldn't help wondering what had happened - what had possibly driven this proud, aloof, _cold _pirate queen to try leaving this world behind.

But she wouldn't say anything, wouldn't betray anything, even if he asked. He could see it from the stubbornness in her eyes. So he changed the topic. ''Do you have any idea how much I hate you?'' he said bluntly. A light smirk crossed her lips, and he found that once again, he could not look away from her face. She was so lovely. It was so unfair. Why was she so beautiful?

''I might have the faintest inkling of an idea,'' she replied, her eyes narrowing slightly. ''Not that I particularly care, Mikuo Hatsune. You're nothing but another crew member to me, part of my pirates. How you feel about me isn't any of my concern. If you follow my orders without protesting too much, I'm happy enough,'' her smile became slightly more genuine. It made her look even prettier. He couldn't look away.

''You don't care about how your crew feels about you, then?'' he said, his voice thoughtful. He tried to choose his next few words carefully. ''Then it doesn't matter to you that your own Quartermaster is in love with you?'' he asked. He noticed her tense, her eyes widening at his words, and inwardly, he crowed in triumph. _I can't believe it. It was so obvious, and she had no idea. Doesn't she have any experience?_

''He doesn't!'' her tone was cutting. ''We're just Captain and Quartermaster. He is someone I can rely on, for his loyalty is infallible, and he sees me as someone to look up to. There is nothing more going on between the both of us,'' she glanced away from him, her eyes narrowing slightly. She clearly had no idea that Piko was harbouring feelings for her, then. _How foolish._

''I never said that there was anything going on between the both of you,'' he pointed out, a little gleeful. He enjoyed watching her like this, confused and unsure. It was amusing...to him, at least. To see someone usually so confident and frustrating being uncertain. ''I just said he has feelings for you. I never mentioned that you reciprocated his feelings, or anything like that. You're twisting what I said, dear captain.''

''I...'' she seemed to be at a loss for words. ''I don't believe you,'' she finally proclaimed. ''You do not know who he is. What kind of person he is like. Whereas he has been my Quartermaster for five years. I know how he is like - I know him better than you ever would. If he loved me, I would know about it! Don't try to lie to me.''

''I'm not lying to you,'' he insisted, hiding a smile. He found this all so enjoyable. Maybe he was getting a little too sadistic for his own good. ''A blind man could see that he likes you. You didn't notice the way he reacted when you touched him, on-board my ship? A man doesn't react like that to a woman he doesn't love. I should know. I, too, am a man,'' he shrugged.

There was a pregnant pause. Finally, the lovely girl sighed, exhaling through gritted teeth. ''I want you to just get out of my sight,'' she said slowly. ''I don't believe you, and I doubt that you're telling the truth. You're probably just trying to confuse me, as some form of petty revenge or the like. Find Piko, and talk to him about your new duties. If he doesn't believe you, then tell him to come and find me.''

''I'm sure he would find you even without me telling him to do such a thing,'' Mikuo told her pointedly. She didn't respond, her face averted from him. ''I hate you very much,'' he added baldy, ''but even I find you beautiful. Much less him, who has no reason to hate you. If he has been your Quartermaster for five years, then I'm surprised you didn't pick up on it sooner.''

''Let's...fine. Very well. Let's, for just a moment, pretend that you are telling the truth,'' all of a sudden, she looked up at him, her green eyes blazing. They were so hypnotising, the way those eyes regarded him...they were a strange shade of green-blue, just like his own, like two deep pools of ocean. He could drown in those eyes. ''If so, I do not return his feelings, I fear. I won't love someone from my crew. Not ever.''

''Why?'' he asked, curious despite himself. He couldn't stand this girl - she was so frustrating, so aggravating, forcing him to be someone he didn't want to be...but she was so _beautiful. _''There's nothing wrong with doing that. You're a woman, after all. Don't all women pine for love and affection of some sort? Even with your iron exterior...you can't be all ice and frost inside.''

''_I can,_'' came the forceful reply. ''I won't love any of my pirates. It is idiotic to do such a thing. I don't wish for my crew to be affected in any way, not by romance or such. And,'' she met his gaze with an icy glare, ''if you're done making assumptions about me and my private life, then I welcome you out of my cabin. I won't show you out,'' she turned sharply away, indicating that the conversation was over. He smirked.

''I seem to have touched a nerve. I wonder what it is. The notion of loving one of your workers? Or...is it the notion of love in itself?'' he saw her twitch. ''Ah. Love, hm? I wonder why, captain. Maybe one day you'll deign to tell me,'' Mikuo shrugged. ''I honestly couldn't care less, though I am rather curious about you. It's not every day that you get to meet the scourge of the seas.''

A second later, there was a metal blade being pointed at his throat. So close that, if he moved forward even just a little, he would slit his neck. She was holding her cutlass against him, her green eyes calm, her arm steady. _It's not her first time. She must have killed before. _''I am tired of putting up with your nonsense,'' she enunciated clearly. ''Get out of here before I lose patience and really cut your throat, Hatsune.''

He just smiled in response. ''Go on, then. Kill me if you will. After all...'' he paused. ''Who was the one who told me that she wouldn't allow me to die, since I am now her property?'' he asked, his voice dripping with malicious sweetness. Her lips tensed at his words, her eyes closing. She withdrew from him, sheathing the cutlass once again. He always knew that she wouldn't kill him. She had only wanted to prove a point.

It didn't mean he wasn't nervous, when he first felt the cold metal against his skin. It was only a second later, when logic kicked in, did he figure out that she wouldn't truly make a move. _When you stare into the face of Death itself..._it was harder to contemplate dying, when he had a choice between Life and Death, when he was looking Death straight in the eye. It wasn't the same. She had spoken the truth, earlier.

Then again, it ought to have been the truth - her words were clearly borne of experience. Again, he wondered what had happened to her, to make her consider ending her own life. Was it before she became a pirate? Miku Hatsune took to the seas at the age of eighteen, everyone knew that. It didn't take her long to become a pirate of fierce repute. A lovely, fiery woman, with a nasty temper to rival Calypso herself.

Not that he had seen the angry side to her yet. So far, she was nothing but deadly calm. Mikuo couldn't help wondering what it would be like, if someone ever pushed her too far and made her unleash that legendary temper. It would be so beautiful, he was certain. A stunning woman with a passionate fury - nothing ever made a better combination. Maybe this was the game he was playing. To make her...let loose?

''The difference here, thief,'' she said, drawing his attention back to her, ''is that I will not let you kill yourself. If you are my property, I have every right to murder you,'' she smiled. It was an icy smile. ''You are fortunate that I am in a rather forgiving mood tonight. Don't talk to me in that manner again, for you are _beneath me,_'' she hissed quietly, ''and I will never suffer such an ignominy without retaliating in return.''

''Understood, captain,'' he bowed to her. Again, the gesture was mocking. ''Is there anything else you'd like me to do, while you're at it? Do you want me to swab the decks, or roost in the crow's nest, or crawl to Piko and lick his boots? I am at your service, forever and always,'' he smirked, still bowed so that she was unable to see his face. He heard her let out a tired sigh.

''Just get out of my sight,'' came the command. ''And never speak to me again. If you need to ask me anything, direct your question to Piko. He can pass it on for you,'' she strode over to the cabin door, wrenching it open. ''Now, if you would excuse yourself?'' she waited. So Mikuo made his way across the room, sauntering out of the door. Once he left, the door was shut.

He heard the 'click' of a door being locked, and his smirk widened. So she didn't want to face him? Honestly, he didn't wish to see her much, either. No matter how cordial he might have been to her, it didn't change the fact that he detested this woman - who wouldn't hate their captors? But she was the captain, and he could not offend her. So all he could do was taunt her. Frustrate her, even if she didn't reveal that.

It was the only way he could get back at her. The only way which would satisfy himself. So she didn't want to speak to him? _I'll find a way. She can't avoid me forever, seeing that she wants me to assist Piko. And there's no way in Hell I'm going to use that man as a courier. _He didn't want to go through all these secondary routes. Couriers were never reliable people.

''What did she talk to you about?'' a voice rang out from beside him. Startled, Mikuo looked around - _my, my. Speak of the Devil, and the Devil will come. _There stood the very person he had been thinking about. Piko, the captain's trusted Quartermaster, was standing there, his dual-coloured eyes narrowed. ''I asked you a question,'' he added, before Mikuo could reply.

''Someone's impatient, I see,'' Mikuo purred, his voice silky. Piko gritted his teeth. He had to hold back a laugh - it was so entertaining, watching the man holding back his frustration. ''Why, do you dislike that the captain requested to see me alone?'' he drawled, leaning back against the door of the captain's cabin. ''How long has it been?'' his voice became serious. Piko blinked.

''I...'' his eyes hardened. ''I don't know what you're talking about,'' he said, voice ringing with finality. ''As her Quartermaster, I make sure that everything is running smoothly on-board this ship, and I just want to make sure that you won't stir up any trouble here. I doubt I would ever understand what are her intentions, in bringing such a troublemaker here...'' his words trailed off, and Mikuo just shrugged, amused.

''Honestly, I have no idea either,'' he said easily. ''You and her both don't speak like the usual seafarers,'' slickly, he changed the subject. ''I wouldn't expect pirates to know how to speak in such a...refined manner. How long have you known the good captain?'' he tilted his head in the direction of the cabin. Piko narrowed his eyes, obviously wondering how much he ought to reveal. Or whether he should even answer.

''Years,'' he finally said. ''We knew each other a long time ago. Even before she fled her home and took to the waters. We grew up together, that's all,'' he shrugged. ''And I know her real reason for doing all this,'' a bitter smile crossed his lips, but it was gone an instant later. ''She's from a well-off family, you know,'' he added, causing Mikuo to arch an eyebrow, surprised. ''Just because she's a pirate now...'' he sighed.

''Then why did she leave?'' he was curious. He couldn't help himself. The captain was such an enigma - if he ever found out any of her dirty little secrets, he might be able to get the upper hand over her. Piko's eyes flashed, and instantly he turned away from Mikuo. Mikuo sensed that the man knew exactly what he was up to.

''It's none of your business, Hatsune,'' came the hiss. ''Anyway, I asked you about what you two were talking about. I know how Miku is like, she won't call you in for idle chatter. I'm not going to ask you again,'' Piko fingered the handle of the whip, strapped to his waist. Mikuo eyed the whip carefully - he didn't want to be on the receiving end of that thing. He heard tales of how damaging a cat-o'-nine tails could be.

''Nothing much. She just wanted me to assist you in your duties around the ship,'' he said slowly, folding his arms across his chest. Piko's eyes widened, a faint look of disbelief crossing his features - a moment later, the silver haired man began to laugh softly, shaking his head. Mikuo frowned a little. ''What's wrong with that?'' he asked, voice a little sharper than he had intended. He didn't appreciate mockery.

''Trust her to do something like that,'' came the low murmur. ''She's too observant for her own good. I should have told her so myself - then perhaps I would've been able to choose my own assistant. But it seems that I'm stuck with you, then,'' Piko tossed his hair out of his eyes, staring at him critically. Mikuo felt like a slave, being appraised for how useful he would be.

''What, you don't doubt me?'' he asked, rather surprised. He knew the man didn't think very highly of him - an idiot could sense that. So why wasn't he losing his head, demanding some sort of proof or whatnot? Piko just shook his head, a resigned smile on his face. The silver haired man looked wistful, almost - though Mikuo couldn't for the life of him imagine why.

''You wouldn't lie about this,'' he said simply. ''Not when you know I could just ask her for confirmation, myself. Besides, you have seen what I can do, on your own ship,'' Piko tilted his head to one side. ''I really doubt that you would want to offend me,'' he shrugged, his eyes sliding down to Mikuo's waist. ''Especially when you have no weapons to retaliate with,'' he added, causing Mikuo to grit his teeth.

The Quartermaster was right. Mikuo was weak and defenceless, presently. Until he got some weapons of his own, it would be for the best that he didn't step on anybody's feet. Piko ran his hand through his hair, yawning - all of a sudden, he seemed to lose all interest in Mikuo. ''Well. I guess I might as well show you around. Let you have an idea of who, exactly, you're going up against,'' he smirked knowingly.

Mikuo didn't like that smirk on his face, but he tucked his hands into his pockets, walking off after the Quartermaster as he strode away. He was on a pirate ship now. He was a pirate, an outlaw, wanted by the authorities. He might as well see how the rules - or lack thereof - went around here. Until he had finished with his little game, he would do his best to survive here. All this was new territory, and he had to live.

And who knew - they were going back to Port Royale, weren't they? Port Royale was a safe haven for pirates and seafarers alike. He might find his father there. Mikuo only had a faintest inkling of what his father looked like, but he knew it would be enough. They had the same eyes, he knew, though his father had green hair instead of teal. So...Mikuo would play along. He was helping Piko...this would be amusing.

Helping the Quartermaster would surely give him an excuse to get close to the captain. And the closer he got to her, the more he could work her up. It was fun, watching her get annoyed. Perhaps the objective of the game was to do that - he would win if he managed to make her truly angry. He wasn't sure, himself, but he was willing to try it out. No one knew how this would turn out, in the end. Not even he knew.

It seemed that experiencing life as a pirate would be better than he originally thought.

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_**Solitaryloner: **__I am a rambling idiot. Who has no one for Valentine's Day. Thus, it shall not be called that. For me, it's...Friendship Day, yes. I shall give chocolates to all my friends because my crush is totally ignoring me. Ever since I..._

_What am I saying. I will not reveal anything about my (non-existent) love life. Just...just know I need love now, so please review~!_

_To .Vocaloid: Oh, I'm glad that you think my Hatsunecest stories are good~! I was thinking that no one liked them, which was why I have so few reviews...well, I don't know, I think Sun-tipped is a pretty good author for this pairing! I actually have the feeling that he/she is NagamiKai, but I'm not really sure. If you're looking for good Hatsunecest stories, I would definitely recommend this author._


	3. Chapter 3

_**Solitaryloner: **__All my stories are my babies. But this one is really important to me - it's an idea I've been nursing for so long, it's kind of printed onto my mind...I can't forget it._

_So I'm really hoping that those who read this can have the same sense of exhilaration and frustration - and every other sense I pour into my words - as I do when I write this all out._

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Piko Utatane was a very confused man.

Not that he was particularly prone to admitting such a thing. Not that his confusion was obvious to those who first saw the formidable, silver haired Quartermaster - but Piko Utatane knew that he was far from sure about himself. He was the revered Quartermaster to the most beautiful, most captivating...most _untouchable _woman he ever had the misfortune to know.

And he hated it. He hated how he knew her. He didn't like how long he had known her - the way he knew every single thing about her, the way her secrets rattled around in his head, taunting and tormenting him in the dark - the way his thoughts liked to whisper to him, when there was nobody else there. _You know that she will never be yours. So why do you even hope?_

It was silly, really. To devote so much time to a woman who wouldn't cast him any more than a passing glance, a little flicker of interest; a tiny, almost bored flicker, desperate in some way. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes - no, he ought not to be thinking about this. He was the Quartermaster - he had a job to do here. Piko was not made his post for nothing whatsoever. He was good at this. Ordering and punishing.

Not that he truly liked his job. Piko was not a cruel man, no matter how much he appeared to disregard humanity and morals - he didn't like to kill, he could scarcely bring himself to send a man to his death, the way he had earlier - but if he didn't, how was he supposed to garner the fear and respect of potential crew members?

The scourge of the seas, Miku Hatsune...she was a strange pirate, a different one. Unlike a traditional pirate captain, her main objective in attacking ships was not to gain booty - though treasure was no doubt a pleasant surprise, if it was found on-board. No, the wild spitfire was more prone to wrecking and destroying every single navy ship she ever happened to sight.

It was for personal reasons, he knew. He even knew what those reasons happened to be. He was that close to her - but did that matter? Piko sometimes wished that he wasn't so close to the captain. He knew too much about her, too much for her to ever consider falling for him - too much for her to really trust him, dammit. Because too much of a good thing was a bad thing, even trust - and _he crossed the line._

She trusted him so damn much that this belief, this reliance, this blind _trust _in him had come full circle, crossing back to bite him on the ass. He was nothing but a good friend, just a pitiful lackey in her gorgeous green eyes - _has no one ever told her how stunning her eyes are _- and he could never hope for more from her, not from a woman as harsh and temperamental as the sea itself. The ocean ran in her blood.

She was too much for him to handle. Too much for anyone, even herself. She was calm on the outside - she seemed to be calm, she was like the solid rock in a stormy ocean - but even the toughest granite, the most concrete stone, had its flaws and weaknesses; a fault line through which the water could smash and pound, and the formerly proud rock would weather away into fragments, smashed into smithereens.

And then it would be gone. The harder she was, the greater her weakness - and her weakness was her anger. That ever-present regret and anger, always lingering in her heart and soul, always taking her attention away from what wasn't part of her goals - the important, the mundane, the dreadfully, terribly obvious – his feelings for her, his adoration for her. She was his everything - his friend, his captain, his...

There was nothing more to say. And he would prefer not to think about it. He wouldn't _want _to think about it - would never have done such a thing, were it not for the sullen boy walking by his side. A man, in reality - but Piko could not help thinking of him as a boy. He was so thoughtless; reckless, immature, stupid…every tiny thing which differentiated a youth from an adult.

He was so much like her - _too _much like her. Those emerald eyes, always flashing with ire, teal hair which glinted and shimmered even in the pathetic light of the moon, pale skin which looked like it had never before known a harsh beating, a cruel blow...though Piko knew that this illusion of weakness and frailty was all it was – a mere illusion. This boy was more.

Under all that pale skin was someone fierce and savage. If Piko looked closer, he could see the faint scars crisscrossing his arms, evidence of some street fight long past. He was a ruffian hiding behind the polished exterior of a young aristocrat, and he wasn't even trying to hide. Once again, Piko couldn't help wondering about Mikuo's unnerving resemblance to the captain.

''Where are you taking me?'' Mikuo rasped out, his voice a low growl in the darkness. Hostile, as he expected. Piko was used to this. After a while, the fight would extinguish itself, and he would be mute and compliant - like the rest of the crew. Until then, he would be patient. Piko could not fault him for his suspicion...after all, he had seen him sending a man to his death.

''To your room,'' Piko turned, arching a single, slender eyebrow. ''There is a spare room next to mine - unless you want to scrabble for some sleeping space below decks, like the rest of the worthless scum,'' he added pointedly, causing Mikuo to bite his lip, the sharp, witty retort he had prepared withering away on his tongue.

''What am I expected to do, as your assistant?'' he finally settled for saying, his voice an almost inaudible mutter. ''I've never heard of this...arrangement before. A pirate ship having two Quartermasters…is one alone not enough to manage your band of cut-throats?'' the jibe was rather pointed. Piko let this go - he had things to get worked up about, and the teal haired idiot's insult was not one of those matters.

He was not important, even if the captain had told him to assist Piko. Piko was not stupid. He knew better than to protest against her order - she was stubborn as a mule, and she wouldn't listen to a single word he said. Imperceptibly, he winced - or at least, he assumed that his reaction hadn't been noticeable. A pair of green eyes regarded him, undoubtedly curious.

Mikuo wondered what to make of his future colleague - the man who had tossed his former captain overboard, into shark-infested waters. He didn't seem capable of cruelty - Mikuo had seen evil men before, and Piko did not exude the same air of maliciousness, of overwhelming arrogance and hatred, that they did. Yet, when he looked into those dual-coloured eyes...

He wasn't so much cruel as he was determined. It was a determined light he saw in those eyes - the eyes of a man who knew what he wanted, and was working his way tirelessly towards his goal. Mikuo had to wonder what goal it was, what the silver haired man sought to own - for the clear, calm need in those eyes were borne of a man either demented or possessed.

Mikuo wondered whether he would ever want something enough to murder for it. To set aside all morals, all scruples, the same way this silver haired Quartermaster clearly had. For an idea, a hope, a dream? He couldn't be certain, that he was sure - Mikuo had never been the kind of person to _hold on _for long. If there was a single thing he lacked, it was sheer determination.

Definitely, he could be determined. Determined enough to do what so many others deemed as insane - setting off on a voyage to seemingly nowhere in a desperate attempt to find his only kin. Determined enough to anger a legendary pirate queen, hoping she would kill him and spare him his misery. Determined enough to look down her sharp blade and greet Death like an old friend, resigned to his apparent fate.

But he wasn't determined enough to change for what he wanted. He couldn't kill a man just to reach his goals - he was many things, but he was not a killer. Mikuo chose not to believe in the existence of God - but a small part of him seemed to cling on to the idea of divine beings. A greater being out there, watching over him, even if he knew that there was no such thing.

This divine being whom he occasionally held faith in...was that why he could not kill a man? In self-defence, perhaps he would…but not if the man was innocent, if he hadn't harmed him in any way. He didn't know if this reluctance to kill made him morally upright, or simply made him weak. Pathetic, a coward hiding behind a facade of justice and righteousness – was that all he was, truly?

''What's your last name?'' he asked abruptly, as he realised that he had never before heard the man's full name. Piko stopped, and Mikuo didn't notice - he actually walked a few more metres before realising that the Quartermaster was gone. He turned back, his gaze meeting those dual-coloured eyes - his gaze was hooded, his lips tensed. His hand lingered near his whip.

''Why do you want to know?'' was the carefully neutral reply. It was the sound of a man who wanted answers, but also knew that simple brute force was not the way to get them. Mikuo resisted the urge to smirk - Piko was not a coward; that much he was certain, and he would much prefer to keep his head attached to his neck…or to just avoid whichever method Piko used to murder.

At least the Quartermaster knew that Mikuo was not someone to be toyed around with. It seemed that the Captain's Quartermaster was smarter - or at least, more observant - than the Captain herself. Brute force would not get her anywhere with him. Answers had to be coaxed out of him - slowly, sensuously, seductively. He was too tight-lipped to cave in to violence.

''Is it a crime to wish to find out...more, about my future work-mate?'' he answered, his voice honeyed. It was deceptively sweet, and judging from the slight narrowing of Piko's eyes, the man was not fooled. Mikuo felt rather curious about Piko's reaction to such a simple question - what was it that the man was trying to hide? All he asked for was for Piko's last name. That couldn't possibly be some big secret. Could it?

''What's in a name? That which we call a rose; by any other name would smell as sweet,'' to Mikuo's surprise, Piko quoted the wise words of Shakespeare, something almost like sadness seeming to flicker through those differently coloured eyes. It startled him greatly that a pirate - a _pirate _- would know of Shakespeare's works, of Romeo and Juliet. Were pirates not supposed to be uncouth and uneducated men?

A corner of Piko's lips tilted up, and he met his green gaze. ''I might be a pirate now, but just like our good Captain, I had far from humble beginnings,'' he shrugged, adjusting his white shirt. It was stained with red, not that the man appeared to care. Or even notice. Bright little spots and specks of bloody crimson...''Utatane,'' he suddenly said. ''My name is Piko Utatane.''

_Piko Utatane..._the name seemed to ring a distant bell, from somewhere…somehow. Not that he could, for the life of him, remember why he found this particular name familiar. What was it about the name he recognised? He just knew that he had heard it before, somewhere. That in itself was strange enough - he was nothing but a mere thief, and he scarcely kept track of news or such. So how would he know about this?

''If we're done dallying around, perhaps you and I could continue on our way,'' Piko's dry voice cut through Mikuo's inner thoughts, causing him to stiffen. ''Even if you are not tired, I am, and I would greatly appreciate a few hours more of sleep before the blasted sun rises over that horizon,'' he looked out, over the edge of the ship. At what, Mikuo could not be very sure.

Looking at the aforementioned horizon, perhaps? In the end, it didn't even matter to him. How much time was there before dawn finally came, and cast the whole sea into light? Sunrises were so beautiful...beautiful enough that he couldn't seem to care about them anymore. Anything he ever cared about withered away, leaving him behind in the dark. The sun was the same. The sun was a sultry temptress, one who beckoned, then fled the closer he come. A temptress...

Unbidden, against his will, his eyes flicked back in the direction of the captain's quarters. A vivid image of her green eyes, unbelievably calm yet intensely furious, filled his mind. Underneath that seemingly placid surface was a spitfire just waiting to be unleashed, waiting to lash out at the first incompetent fool who got in her way. He hated this level-headed side of her - Mikuo wished to see her anger, her infamous wrath.

People said that, when the pirate queen was truly angry - which rarely happened in front of those she did not trust, apparently - she was a beautiful woman…the most beautiful woman, most gorgeous murderess to sail the seas. They compared her to Calypso, to Pele, to all sorts of goddesses - and they said that she was much more intimidatingly lovely than all of them put together. She was a headstrong woman who scared men as much as she attracted them.

But he didn't fear her, not in the slightest. Her reputation got ahead of her, and he heard tales of what she had done, what had gotten her the title of 'scourge of the seas' - yet, he did not fear the thought of her. Nor did he tremble at her approach, shiver under her stare. The intense challenge this captain presented reeled him in as much as she repelled him - he hated her so much that he couldn't stop noticing her.

She was a stunning beauty. Did she know it? She probably did. Again, he thought about the little flicker of determination he felt, upon sighting her - _why did she spare me? Why didn't she just allow her Quartermaster to kill me, and spare herself all this trouble? I don't believe any of her excuses, not for a single moment. There has to be more to this than simple curiosity. _There was more to her than just curiosity.

He was more than just curious about her. All he had to know was what _way _it was different. She was so fun to tease, so fun to taunt – so fun to watch her struggling, clamping down on that legendary temper she tried so hard to conceal. Why did she hide her anger? He wanted her to be angry at him - would purposely frustrate her, go out of his way to annoy her - just so he could feel the blast of her anger directed solely at him. He felt her fury was precious, somehow.

He followed Piko all the way to the cabin of the Quartermaster. True to the silver haired man's words, there was a vacant cabin right next to Piko's own - Mikuo couldn't help feeling relieved that he didn't have to scramble for space, down with the rest of the three-hundred strong crew. He noted the knowing glint in Piko's eyes, and realized that the Quartermaster must have seen the apparent relief in his own emerald gaze.

''Tomorrow morning, I will inform you of your duties,'' Piko paused, his hand resting lightly on the doorknob. He was standing outside his own cabin, and an unfamiliar look of uncertainty had settled over his features - at least, to Mikuo, uncertainty was an emotion that looked rather out of place on Piko's face. ''The captain locks her door, you know. So don't even try, Hatsune. You won't be able to get past all of her locks.''

A brief flicker of anger went through him. It was an odd mixture of indignation - he was a professional thief, did Piko really think there was any lock in the world he could not pick - as well as anger at being judged this way. ''What do you mean by that?'' he said softly, his voice icy cold. ''I wasn't going to go anywhere near her room, Piko Utatane. Watch your tongue.''

''I'll watch my tongue if you'll watch yours,'' his eyes glittered with some emotion. An emotion Mikuo was strangely unable to identify. Then, all of a sudden, the man began to laugh. ''It's so amusing, you know,'' he said in-between soft chuckles, ''that you and she get angry the exact same way. I wouldn't say that you're precisely the same, but it is eerily similar. Her voice gets all soft and cold. It's like the wind in winter.''

That confused Mikuo slightly. Was this man just mental? His quickly changing moods left him to question the sanity of the pirate he was now having an apparent conversation with. And the confusion that filled him now...it was not what he was used to feeling. His whole life, his goals and thoughts had been simple - _steal what you have to, and always do your best to survive._

Confusion was, therefore, not something which he was prone to feeling. And he didn't think he liked it. ''Whatever the Quartermaster says,'' he finally breathed out, his eyes narrowing. ''I don't have the audacity to challenge what you tell me, after all.'' He had better things to do with his time, anyway. If he was out to offend anyone upon this ship, he would do so to the captain herself. There wasn't any point to angering the Quartermaster – if he was going to get into trouble, it might as well be a result of annoying the captain herself, no?

To go straight to the higher-ups…of course, that was not his main priority, though no doubt it would be most amusing. Piko Utatane turned his head a little, his dual-coloured eyes unreadable – "Of course you don't have the audacity. For, since when would someone like you ever dare to lift a finger against someone like _her?_" was the simple reply.

Before Mikuo had the chance to answer, the Quartermaster turned away from him, opening the door to his own cabin, stepping inside without any word of farewell. The door was softly shut, and if Mikuo hadn't been watching, agape, the whole time, he wouldn't even have known that Piko had moved a single step. _He is a strange man indeed, isn't he? _Mikuo mused quietly to himself. He still was not entirely sure what he ought to make of this silver haired man.

It was obvious enough that the man was in love with the Captain. Mikuo wondered whether he ought to be concerned about that. After all, if Piko Utatane had feelings for the captain, was concerned for her and actually _cared _for her…then would this affect his plans to play her, in any way? If Piko got wind of Mikuo's true intentions; if he realised that Mikuo intended to break Hatsune, in a way…what if he tried to warn the good captain? _It won't be fun anymore._

…No, he shouldn't think that way. He was getting ahead of himself. This was only his first night on-board the ship; for all he knew, the next morning he might no longer feel this unquenchable urge to toy with the captain. To shatter that pride, the calmness, the coldness with which she regarded him. His lip curled in disdain – _does she assume that, just because she is my 'captain' now, she can control me? Look down upon me? If so, she assumes wrongly. _He wanted her to acknowledge him as an equal…as a superior, even. He wanted her to break down before him.

_I want to hear her beg. I want to see her weak and defeated and broken, her fury exhausted and spent. _It would be remarkably thrilling to witness the crumble of such a prideful and perpetually calm woman. How could he get her to shed the mask that she wore, so that she would reveal her genuine and wrathful self to him…and him alone? Somehow, he recoiled at the idea of her baring her real self to anyone other than him; because, if such a thing happened, then it would no longer be an exclusive victory. If there was one thing he liked, it was exclusivity.

_To hear her beg…_a slow smirk curved his lips. Then he caught himself, and shook his head sharply. Yes, she was a beautiful woman, but that alone was not enough to make him want her as more than an enemy to tear down and destroy. _You do not lust for your enemy, do you? For that would interfere with your feelings, and perhaps deter you from clearing your game…_he let out a sigh, slowly reaching out to open the door to his cabin. Perhaps he ought to just get some sleep.

The room he stepped into, after he turned and locked the door behind him, was sparsely decorated and Spartan-seeming. He appreciated that – Mikuo was someone who preferred things to be simple. He got rather uncomfortable with luxury and comfort; it came with being raised in a poor family, with working as a thief. He was unused to anything that didn't discomfort him. He was not rich, and he was proud of it – he didn't want to be anything like the sallow-skinned aristocrats, back home. They were weak, spineless, and_ useless_; place an aristocrat out in the real world, outside of their parties and galas, and they would probably die in less than a day.

"Then again, I am on a pirate ship. Comfort shouldn't be something that is provided too freely here," he mused aloud, finding his way through the dark to turn on the lamp. Then he observed the room carefully for anything he could use as a weapon. The walls were bare, and the only things there were in the room were a small bed and a chest, lying semi-hidden behind the desk. Curious, Mikuo went over to the chest, kneeling before it; carefully, he tried to lift the latch and open it up. The chest happened to be locked. He frowned.

Curiosity piqued, he sat back and stared at the lock, trying to figure out what sort of lock it was. It took him three seconds – the locking mechanism was simple, and a self-satisfied smirk crossed his lips. Reaching up, he took his necklace off – the pirates hadn't bothered taking it away from him when they searched him, though he didn't miss the derisive smirks they wore as they turned away from him – and pressed a knob on the top of the broken heart.

The heart swung open. In it, Mikuo had kept a tiny piece of metal wire, coiled up neatly to fit into the necklace. It was flexible enough to be bent without excessive strength, and hard enough to remain in shape – perfect as a lock pick. Carefully, Mikuo uncoiled the wire, then slid the very tip of the metal into the keyhole of the chest. With some wriggling here and there, he felt something catch; then the chest swung open. Mikuo peered eagerly into the simple wooden box.

He was rather disappointed with what he found. Nothing other than a bunch of clothes – white shirts and dark-coloured breeches, similar to what the captain herself was wearing – it would be a lie if he claimed that he hadn't been expecting anything more…dramatic. With little better to do, he stuck his hands into the chest, rifling through the clothes; strangely, these clothes seemed to be rather…old. The white of the ruffled shirts were slightly yellowed, the colour of the pants rather faded. The clothes must have been lying in this chest for several years.

Mikuo wondered why, and he wondered whose clothes were these. Piko's? The Captain's? He had no idea. They appeared to be for a male, however; from what he had seen, they were a little too big to fit the petite frame of the dreaded Pirate Queen. But who would have left their clothes in here, in his room, in a locked chest? It didn't make any sense. They were fine clothes, Mikuo readily admitted that, but not enough to warrant being locked away, and not taken out at all.

_How interesting…_Mikuo rootled within the clothes, searching for something that would give him a clue to who these clothes belonged to, and why they happened to be in a locked chest in a, until recently, apparently empty room. After all, before he came on-board, there hadn't been anyone else living in this cabin, had there? _Perhaps I will ask Piko about this tomorrow morning…if he even deigns to tell me anything, that is. _His searching fingers brushed past something other than soft cotton and rough hemp – his eyes widened, and he scrabbled around for the new…item.

His fingers found a hard edge, and latched around the thing – he pulled it out from the mass of clothing, and found that he was now holding a black, leather-bound book. It seemed to be a diary of sorts. Curious, he opened it, looking to the first page – it was blank, to his disappointment. He flipped through the entire book. The pages were yellowed, and not a single word was written on its pages – _it must not have been taken out in a while, much like the clothes in this chest._

He prepared to close the book – the book fell open to the very middle, which he had glanced at just a few seconds ago. The flickering flame of the lamp glinted off something in the centre of the yellowed page – it caught his eye, glimmering and beckoning seductively. He thanked whatever mysterious entity was out there, bringing him luck, then brought the book closer to his face in an attempt to decipher what was scrawled on the page. The words were in golden ink…

_Forever and always. _Three simple words, written on the brittle paper – it made him blink in surprise as he wondered what that meant. _Forever and always? _Why would that phrase be in this book, which evidently had not seen the light of day for quite some time? Who would have locked this book away, the same way the clothes were placed out of sight? _And why is this chest in my room to begin with…_he wondered who the message was intended for, and who wrote it. This was all getting remarkably strange; he never expected such a thing to happen on-board this ship.

Perhaps the things were all sealed away to forget. He didn't know; but usually, didn't others hide things because they were valuable, or they just wanted them out of sight, and out of mind? These clothes and almost blank book were far from valuable, when it came to monetary value…which meant that someone was trying to forget about these items, clearly. Perhaps it was the captain – who else would have access to this room, other than her and Piko? And, somehow, he had the feeling that the silver haired man would not be the type of person to do something so…sentimental? Or maybe that was not the right word to use. Ridiculous would be a better way to describe it.

_No, I'm jumping to conclusions…I must be really bored to start coming up with all manner of strange theories and such. For all I know, the story behind this might be extraordinarily boring; perhaps this is even some sort of ruse the captain is using, to make me curious and end up exhausting myself trying to solve a mystery that was never there to begin with. I wouldn't put it past her to do such a thing. _Mikuo shook his head sharply, putting the book back into the chest; quickly, he locked the chest, sliding it back to the position it had been in, originally. He didn't want it to seem like he had even discovered the chest – someone was clearly trying to hide it.

Perhaps, in the middle of the night, the person who had hidden it away would come in to check upon it. Somehow, he doubted that anyone would be foolish enough to sneak into the room of a professional thief, but he wasn't going to take any chances. With a sudden yawn, Mikuo rubbed at his eyes, realising how exhausted he was – it had been a long and eventful day, getting captured by pirates and whatnot. And meeting the beautiful girl who was their captain…

_I need to stop concentrating so much on her looks. Yes, she is lovely, but it doesn't mean that her appearance has to be the first thing I think about whenever my thoughts drift to her! _He was frustrating himself. Why was he so fixated upon her looks? Other than the fact that she looked a great deal like him, beauty in itself was not such a big deal. She resembled him so much that he could have sworn they were related, somehow; yet, as she had told him just now, there was no possible way they could be relatives. _Just a disturbing coincidence then, I suppose._

He went to lie on the bed, his gaze trained resolutely on the low wooden ceiling of the cabin. He wondered, again, what sort of game and conflict he was expecting; he had the vaguest sense that he wanted to make her lose self-control. But the question was, how, why, and what would be a victory in this case? _Ah, but I have plenty of time to think about it…_a sly smirk crossed his face. For now, it would be more amusing for him to just try and work the good captain up, he felt. She plainly did not wish to interact with him; so, he would go resolutely against her wishes.

The more she tried to avoid him, the more he would stick to her. Until she caved in and…well, he wasn't sure what he was expecting to happen, but he was sure it would be spectacular, and far from boring. Amusement was something he wanted to have a constant supply of, on this ship, since at the moment it appeared he was going to spend a great deal of time – _unwillingly _– trying to maintain order and such. The job of a Quartermaster…no doubt, it would be disinteresting.

He was someone who always enjoyed a good attraction, a fun amusement, a way to relax and unwind. His thoughts went back to emerald eyes, a cold smile, a carefully concealed anger, and his smirk became slightly more genuine – it seemed like he had found his entertainment.


End file.
